


The Awkward Engagements of Doctor Lyman Hall

by oh_mr_adams



Category: 1776 (1972), 1776 - Edwards/Stone
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, also this ship is great but it's so obscure i need CONTENT, ed is needy as fuck when he's sick, i might do a part 2 but knowing me thats never gonna happen, lots of fluff, poor lyman is too kind to refuse anybody anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 07:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_mr_adams/pseuds/oh_mr_adams
Summary: Lyman Hall is far too kind to say 'no' to anybody, so Mr. John Dickinson makes him check up on their sick friend. Their whiny, needy, and very delirious sick friend.





	The Awkward Engagements of Doctor Lyman Hall

         On December first, Lyman Hall entered the Pennsylvania State House, his cheeks and hands still numb from the bitter cold outside. The rush of warm air as he pulled open the doors to the main chamber was quite welcome, and he almost regretted complaining about the heat months earlier. Though there was hardly any wind, his shoes did very little to protect him from the deep snow and the short walk from his apartment to the State House had left him soaking wet and damnably cold. The snow in his hair started to melt and dripped down onto his shoulders.

        The other delegates appeared to have noticed how utterly miserable he looked and bit back quiet laughter. As he looked around, he realized that at least half of the congress weren’t present. Adams and Lee were missing, which gave the room a more quiet, comfortable mood, and a number of delegates from the South, clearly unused to this kind of weather, were missing as well. As he looked around more, he noticed that Edward Rutledge was among the number of absent delegates. He frowned. Still shivering, he sat down awkwardly at his table at the back of the room. Other than the amusement they showed earlier, no one had seemed to pay any attention to him. Nearly the entire right side of the room was empty, other than Jefferson, seated in his usual spot on the window sill, and the two Pennsylvania delegates, who were talking in hushed tones, Dickinson’s arm wrapped around Wilson’s shoulders warmly. Poor Wilson seemed to be most affected by the cold, and his partner graciously took off his obscenely green coat and wrapped it around James’s shoulders.

        Lyman shrugged off his own coat, realizing the dampness of it sort of counteracted any warmth it might provide. He gave a small sigh, a bit louder than he had expected, and watched James perk up at the sound with amusement. Only just realizing Lyman had arrived, James whipped around and smiled, giving him a small wave. As Lyman waved in return, John looked around as well, before his delicate eyebrows shot upwards and he beckoned Lyman over to the Pennsylvania table impatiently. James sighed at his lover’s behavior but tugged John’s coat tighter around his shoulders. Lyman winced as he pushed himself up from his chair, tired and still quite cold, but he pulled up a chair at the Pennsylvania table and greeted his fellow delegates quietly.  
       

      “Good morning, Doctor Hall!” Wilson chirped, still visibly shivering.  
       

      “Yes, yes, good morning, doctor,” Dickinson said bluntly, not giving Lyman any chance to respond. “I hope the weather hasn’t treated you too badly. Poor James here…”  
       

       Wilson rolled his eyes, trying to look dismissive, which was quite difficult. After a moment of awkward silence, Lyman realized it was his turn to speak.

       “The weather’s been much colder than I’m comfortable with, I’ll admit, but I doubt I’ll be keeling over of hypothermia anytime soon. Unlike Mr. Wilson here,” He added with a smirk.

       “Guys, seriously, I’m fine!” James whined over John’s laughter. After a few moments of quiet laughter and Wilson’s dejected groaning, the trio had quieted again and Lyman stared around the room awkwardly.

       “Hardly anybody here today,” he said, for no reason other than to fill the silence. “Is everyone sick? Or is it just too cold to make the trip to work?” At the mention of the word ‘sick’, John perked up and fished around in his pocket until he retrieved a small paper bag and set it on the table.  
     

 “Ah, Doctor Hall, that reminds me of why I called you over here in the first place.”

       Lyman nodded, signaling for him to continue.

       “My dear friend Ned- Mr. Rutledge is, unfortunately, feeling a bit under the weather. He asked for me to pick up this medicine and bring it to him but… I am,” He paused, “Unfortunately… very busy at this time.”

       Lyman blinked.

      “He’s afraid of germs,” James cut in smoothly, earning a pointed glare from John. Dickinson sighed.

      “Fine. I value my personal health very greatly. Is that such a crime?” The question was clearly pointed towards James, who responded with a smug smirk.

      “I fail to see what this has to do with me,” Lyman interjected.

       John and James looked away from each other for a moment and John nodded.

       “Yes, well… I was hoping you could deliver it in my stead. You see um… well, it’s because you’re a doctor and...you and Ned seem to be close-”

       Hancock’s thundering laugh cut the silence, causing a couple congressmen to jump. Lyman whipped around to face him, only to see the president staring down at him with a condescending, pitying expression. Hancock slapped his newspaper down onto his desk and rested his chin in his hands.

      “He’s asking you because you’re too kind and sweet to refuse anyone.”  
Lyman blinked again, wishing he’d stayed home.

      “Mr. Hancock,” John hissed, “With all due respect, please shut up and stop eavesdropping on our conversation. Sir.”

       Hancock gave a barking laugh but complied and returned to his newspaper. After a few moments of silence, Lyman sighed and grabbed the small bag off of the table, earning a small look of surprise from Dickinson.

“Sure, I’ll bring it to him. I’ve got nothing better to do anyway.”

“I guess Hancock was right,” James mumbled quietly. Lyman raised an eyebrow pointedly. John snorted and rested a hand on James’s shoulder. Lyman stood up, glaring down at the two with mock frustration.

“Just because I’m doing this,” he hissed, “Does not mean I’m incapable of refusing people.”

“Ha. Yeah, alright,” John smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Are you trying to be intimidating, Doctor Hall? Because I must say, everyone in this Congress knows you couldn’t hurt a fly.”

His pride thoroughly wounded, Lyman shoved his chair under the table and straightened himself out. “With that, I’ll see myself out. Good day, gentlemen.” Retrieving his coat from his table, he heard James call, “Have a nice day, Lyman!” and smiled to himself.

Entering out into the bitter cold, he instantly regretted his decisions leading up to this moment. The snow had fallen at least an inch deeper, and he could already feel it soaking into his silk stockings. He silently cursed John’s germophobia, but something inside him was glad to be able to spend time with Edward, sick as he might be. A small smile played on his lips as he trudged through the wet snow.

A walk that should have taken fifteen minutes became half an hour as he’d managed to slip twice on the same patch of ice, and on some streets, the snow nearly piled up to his knees. He was relieved to find himself in front of Edward’s apartment, but something inside of him held him back from knocking on the door. He’d never actually visited Edward in his house before. Sure he had a reason to be here, but he wasn’t sure how Edward would react to seeing him. Nonetheless, he knocked on the door nervously and heard nothing but the faint sounds of carriage wheels rolling down the cobbled streets in the distance. He knocked again, and again, didn’t receive an answer. He sighed inwardly and gently turned the doorknob. He felt rude for intruding like that, but he’d be damned if he was going to stand out there any longer. Cautiously and quietly stepping inside, the warmth of the nearby fireplace immediately removed the tension from his shoulders.

“Mr. Rutledge? Are- are you home? I, um…” He trailed off, only to hear a dull, miserable groan from the next room over. He carefully poked his head around the corner and blinked nervously, before pushing open the door. Looking into the room through the dull light he saw Edward sprawled out in bed, his eyes squinted shut and one leg hanging off the edge of the bed. His hair was matted down to his forehead with sweat and his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, revealing a pale, freckled chest and stomach. Lyman shook himself when he realized he was staring and straightened himself out nervously.

“Ah, Mr. Rutledge…”

A tired whine in response.

“It’s me, Doc- Lyman. Lyman Hall.”

Rutledge peeked one eye open and fixed Lyman with a dull stare.

“Well um,” Lyman continued, “John was… busy, and sent me to come check on you.” His eyebrows raised as he remembered why he was there, and he fished the package of medicine out of his pocket. “Medicine. He asked me to bring this to you.”

 

Shakily, and in an obvious amount of pain, Rutledge sat up, leaning heavily on a pile of pillows. Lyman winced in sympathy, but still felt horribly nervous and out of place. He fiddled awkwardly with his cravat, not sure what to do or say. Wheezing horribly, Edward broke the silence.

“Thanks for coming,” He mumbled hoarsely, “I knew that bastard, John wouldn’t show.” Lyman wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not, so he remained quiet.

“Doctor Hall.”

“Yes?”

“I feel…” His eyes fell shut again, “Awful.”

Lyman frowned sympathetically and slowly walked over to where Edward sat. His usual accent was even thicker with sleepiness and Lyman would have thought it was cute if the poor man hadn’t looked so miserable. Edward flinched and gave a small whimper as Lyman checked his temperature, pressing his hand to Edward’s forehead.

“Mr. Rutledge, you look awful,” He said bluntly, “And you’re burning up…”

Edward opened his mouth to reply, only to break out into a coughing fit. “Thank you, Lyman, for your… assessment of my appearance.” It would have come off as scathing if Edward had the energy to be upset. Lyman smiled, knowing Edward didn’t see.

“I meant no offense, Ed.” Rutledge nodded vaguely, looking like he was going to fall asleep, and Lyman laid a hand on his shoulder. “Lay down. You need to rest.” Rutledge blinked his eyes open and stared up at Hall, like a sort of sad puppy. His normally bright blue eyes were dull and glazed over with pain, and his face had a sort of pale, greenish pallor to it. Lyman felt a pang of hurt in his chest and brushed Edward’s bangs out of his eyes.

“Well, you’re the doctor,” Rutledge broke the silence with a croak. He closed his eyes again and curled up on his side, tugging his blankets up to his chin. Immediately, Lyman felt overwhelmed with a desire to care for him and it hurt him to see the normally energetic young man look so miserable. He crouched so he could be eye level with Edward and gently rested a hand on the other man’s head, gently fingering the ginger locks of hair, He tenderly caressed Edward’s temple with his thumb and felt the younger man twitch responsively to his touch. For a brief moment, he could have sworn he saw a tentative smile on Edward’s lips. He stayed like that for a brief moment, feeling himself start to fall asleep as well, before he slowly drew himself up, ignoring the dull ache in his back from crouching like that for so long. When the younger man’s breathing had settled into a rhythmic wheeze, Lyman decided he was no longer needed. His coat was sufficiently dry, so he padded quietly into the living room, ready to face the December weather once again. As his fingertips grazed the doorknob, he heard a faint whimper from the other room.

“Lyman…? Lyman…” With a look of worry, Hall entered the bedroom once again, only to find Edward trying to push himself out of bed. He quickly rushed to Edward’s side, placing his hands gently on his shoulders. Ed seemed to have calmed slightly but he still appeared to be absolutely delirious. Tears prickled in the corners of Ed’s eyes. “Please don’t leave, Lyman. Don’t leave.”

Lyman was overjoyed to be wanted, but he didn’t show it. Instead, he gently pushed Edward back into bed. “Shush, Eddie. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry.” He pulled the blanket up over Ed’s shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere,” He said again. Edward seemed to be calmed by that, though he sniffled quietly into his pillow. Kneeling next to the bed, he held Edward’s trembling hand in his own and used his other hand to gently rub circles on Ed’s back. He rubbed Ed’s knuckles with his thumb, noticing the freckles scattered across his hands and arms. He smiled.

“Have you eaten today, Ed? Would you like me to make you something?”

Edward’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Don’t go.”

Lyman smiled.

“Okay, okay. I won’t. I’m here.”

The look of worry didn’t leave Edward’s face though, and he gripped Lyman’s hand tightly. Lyman had always thought of Edward as a bit needy, but this was a whole new level. He had to hold back a laugh at Edward’s expense, but he was sort of glad that Edward had such high regards for him. Lyman blinked into the sunlight that poured through the windows. It was much more than when he’d first arrived, he realized. He must have been here for a while. One arm still stretched lazily over Edward’s waist, he let his head fall onto the soft mattress, only to finally realize how tired he was. He let his eyes fall shut and nearly fell asleep before he felt Edward stirring next to him.

“Lyman.”

For a moment it physically hurt for Lyman to open his eyes. “Yes, Eddie?” Despite the circumstances, perhaps calling him ‘Eddie’ was a bit informal. Edward didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m cold.”

Lyman smiled slightly at the fact Edward sounded less like a refined delegate to the Continental Congress, and more like a petulant child. “Would you like me to fetch you some blankets?”

Edward sighed. “No, I…” His voice was painfully hoarse and it hurt to speak. He also had no idea how to go about asking this. “Would you please… hold me?”

Lyman felt his heart lurch in his chest and his face go warm with nervousness. This had been the last thing he’d expected yet…

“Yes! Yes. Of course. If… if it makes you feel better.”

Edward seemed to relax visibly as Lyman gently slipped into bed next to him. The same did not go for Lyman, who laid next to him as rigidly as a plank of wood, his fingers laced together over his stomach, staring up at the ceiling. Realizing that “hold me” did not mean “lie here stiffly, pretending that you don’t exist,” Lyman rolled awkwardly over onto his side.

“I- I’m not sure how to go about this, to be… to be entirely honest.”

Edward grimaced, and rolled over, burying his face in Lyman’s chest.

“My stomach hurts, my head hurts, and I think I’m going to die, Lyman.”

Lyman laughed quietly and gently wrapped his arms around Ned, who seemed so much smaller without the persona he often kept up. “You’re not going to die, Eddie. Don’t worry. You just have a fever.”

“I’m gonna die…” Edward croaked miserably.

“Hush.” He tentatively pressed a kiss to Edward’s forehead. It felt uncomfortably warm. “Try to sleep.”

Edward gently pushed Lyman over until he was lying on his back and rested his head comfortably on Lyman’s chest. Lyman blushed again, and was thankful the butterflies in his stomach weren’t noticeable. The feeling of Edward’s arms wrapped around his waist filled his entire body with warmth and happiness and for the first time in a long time, he felt safe.

“Thank you for not leaving…” Edward mumbled into Lyman’s chest. “You didn’t have to stay but… you did. Thank you.” Lyman didn’t respond, just petted Edward’s hair, calmly twisting the ginger locks between his fingers. Eventually, he worked up the energy to speak.

“Thank you for having me.”  
Edward didn’t hear, as he’d fallen asleep already, his breath a rhythmic wheeze with an occasional cough. Lyman realized as he fell asleep that he’d most likely wake up with the same sickness that Edward had. His prospects seemed grim, but he was willing to suffer through it, he supposed.

“Goodnight, Eddie…” He mumbled. He felt Edward hold him a little bit tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> I may do a part 2.... but knowing me I will never get around to it.


End file.
